Page 58 of State of Mind

Luca shrugged. “He said you needed lunch because you suck at taking care of yourself.”

Raphael muttered something in German, but he still shifted over and gave the cushion next to him a pat. “I take care of myself just fine. Look at me—this many years on my own and I’m still alive.”

Luca plopped down and kicked his feet up on the table as Raphael took the bag from him, peering inside with a grimace. “I can cook if you don’t want it.”

“Just sandwiches,” Raphael said. “On very shitty gluten-free bread. Jayden can’t cook any better than I can.” He set the food aside and nestled a little closer to Luca, who didn’t hesitate to curl against his side. “It’s fine. I’m not that hungry.”

“Are you sick?”

Raphael sighed and shook his head. “Not sick. I get seizures sometimes. I have epilepsy, but it’s usually controlled with my medications. Sometimes, a bad one sneaks through.”

“How bad?”

“Worse than it’s been in a while,” Raphael admitted, his tone telling Luca he didn’t want to admit that aloud. “My doctor thinks it’s stress. Or maybe my medication isn’t working as well as it used to. Normally, I recover in a few days, but this one knocked me down hard.”

Luca gently brushed fingers through Raphael’s hair. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I didn’t call anyone except for Jayden to tell him I’d be out of work,” Raphael said with a huff, his eyes closing. He groaned and used his hands to help shift his legs so he could lay his head on Luca’s thigh. The blanket got twisted, but with their combined efforts, Raphael was comfortable again, and Luca felt him relax, fraction by fraction. “I’ve had a migraine for two days.”

“How can I help?”

“This,” Raphael said. Simple as that, but it was hard for Luca to believe it. All the same, he continued his gentle scalp massage and wished that he was better trained at it. He was doing something right, though, because Raphael was pliant, and his mouth curved into an easy smile. “Jayden tried to cancel a date to come take care of me.”

“You should have let him,” Luca scolded. “I would have.”

“I know. It was why I didn’t call you. He said he saw you and Wilder—things are good, right?”

Luca’s mouth curved into its own soft smile, and he shrugged. “They’re not bad.” But even as he said it, it felt like a lie. “It’s complicated.”

Raphael pushed up on his elbow and turned his head to frown at him. “Explain.”

Dragging his fingers around his mouth, he let his head fall back on the cushion, then pushed Raphael’s head back down and resumed his massage. “He’s staying with me at the house because they’re doing work on his apartment.”

“Okay,” Raphael said.

“I hung out with him at the Market, and it… felt good. It felt,” he trailed off, because there weren’t really words for what it was. Domestic, but that wasn’t enough. Content, but the word was so shallow compared to the burning he felt inside that threatened to consume him. “I want to wake up with him in my bed every day.”

“Does he feel the same?”

Luca groaned. “I don’t know. I want to say yes. God, I don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t. But we haven’t talked about it.”

Raphael laughed and muttered something in German. When Luca poked him, he laughed again and sighed out, “You’re such a mess.”

Luca bowed his head and had no defense, because Raphael was right. He desperately wanted to tell him about Wilder’s reaction to being touched, because the burden of it felt heavy, but it wasn’t his place. Not without Wilder giving him permission. “We both have a lot of baggage.”

“That,” Raphael said primly, “is very obvious.”

“I’m just worried it’s too much.”

“Too much means nothing if he’s worth it. If you’re worth it,” Raphael said. His voice began to drift, and Luca felt him get heavier.

“You need sleep.”

“Mm.” Raphael nuzzled and curled his hand around Luca’s thigh. “You can go.”

He was like a cat—occupying his lap being soft and adorable, and it was impossible to move. “Will this help you sleep?”

“Ja, but I’ve survived worse without rest.” Raphael gave his leg a pat, but made no move to relinquish his grasp, and Luca didn’t mind. He had hours to kill, and if this helped his friend, he’d gladly spend all afternoon on that sofa.

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